


A Curse We Cannot Lift

by OllieMaye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-First War with Voldemort, Reference to Flogging, Rough Sex, Wolfsbane Potion, reference to Bondage, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 20:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16940445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllieMaye/pseuds/OllieMaye
Summary: Remus needs a potion. Severus needs an escape. Both need help healing. Can they help each other without falling back into old habits?





	1. Transfer My Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnapeLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnapeLove/gifts).



> This work is a holiday gift fic for SnapeLove and is part of the Pen15 Is Mightier Holiday Gift Exchange. I sincerely hope you enjoy this! 
> 
> HUGE THANKS to my alphas/betas BrandonStrayne, breath_of_mine, Kristinabird and NorahClark for your mad skills, your encouragement, thoughts and feelings, and your help in making sense of everything! <3
> 
> I think canonically, Severus started teaching at Hogwarts in 1981, so consider this a bit of an AU where maybe he starts in 1982. ;)
> 
> The work and chapter titles are borrowed from the lyrics of [Wolf Like Me](https://youtu.be/j1-xRk6llh4) by TV on the Radio, which I tried to keep in mind while writing this. <3

**November 2, 1981: Waxing Crescent**

Hoots and hollers bounced around the buildings on the small wizarding street as witches and wizards gathered in the street in celebration, not even bothering to conceal any of the magic from prying Muggle eyes. Colourful sparks lit up the rooftops and shouts of “Long Live Harry Potter!” rang through the air. All the world seemed to be in a tizzy; He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been defeated two nights previous, and it seemed as though the entire wizarding community had joined together to commemorate the occasion and wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

Well, almost the whole community: Severus Snape laid in his bed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering where it had all gone wrong. It came down to his failure at every turn: he failed to see the Dark Lord for what he really was until it was too late; he failed in redeeming himself to Dumbledore; and he failed to keep the woman he loved alive. He stayed in bed for days, not willing to face a world without Lily Evans in it.

Severus sat up and shook the thoughts from his mind. Opening the doors to the small balcony off his bedroom, he stepped out into the chilly night air. The night sky, inky black tonight, was peppered with pinprick stars, and a crescent moon peeked through a lone cloud. 

A faint scent of chamomile and vanilla wafted from another balcony. Severus inhaled deeply, letting the fragrance pull memories of when he and Lily Evans were children: Lily inviting Severus to her house for tea one day, the first time Severus had been allowed to visit her home; Lily and Severus sitting on a bench, eating vanilla ice lollies her mother had purchased for them; Lily excitedly telling Severus that she would be joining him at Hogwarts; and Lily turning away from him as the word “mudblood” fell from his lips after his altercation with James Potter.

The faint scent somehow became overpowering to him. Walking back inside, he pinched the bridge of his long nose in frustration. So many years he’d wasted, dreaming about what could have been. He thought of the million different ways things could have been different, and he knew that he should have let Lily know about his feelings for her instead of letting his fucking pride get in the way.

Severus looked back at the crescent moon, a sliver of light in the black night, much like Lily had been for him. He’d been holed up for two days in his bedroom, and the air was stale. He suddenly felt as though the walls were closing in on him. He needed to get out.

The rickety old stairs creaked as he rushed down them, frantic to get back outside. The door to the building he lived in flew open when he swished his wand, and the cool night air filled his lungs. Candles flickered in the street lamps, softly illuminating the cobblestone pathway under his feet. Stragglers and people still making merry lingered in the street, raucously singing about Voldemort’s defeat, another niggling reminder to Severus of what he had lost. He stalked down the street, letting his feet carry him wherever they felt like, the sneer on his face frozen.

A group of young witches and wizards staggered near him, passing a bottle of firewhisky between them. A copper-haired witch eyed him and broke off from the pack. She lingered as her companions went along without her, inching closer to Severus. “Are you okay?” she asked gingerly, not an ounce of inebriation in her voice. Severus kept walking, head down, but the witch carried on. “It’s all right, you can talk to me,” she called after him.

Severus stopped and turned to face the gnat following him. He quickly studied her face: the witch’s pale skin seemed to glow under the light of the street lamps; she bit at her lower lip, full and glistening; and impossibly green eyes, shining and searching…

‘Gods, she’s everywhere I fucking turn,’ Severus screamed in his head. He could see Lily in this stranger’s eyes, almost as if she were trapped in there. He clutched at his lank black hair in frustration.  “I don’t want to talk to people I don’t know,” he growled at the witch. Turning away, he started back up the street, only to hear her footsteps following him.

“Everyone has been celebrating the war ending for the past couple of days, yet you don’t seem to be sharing in the festivities, and it looks like you could use a friend.”

Severus hesitated for a split second. She left her friends to talk to him, so she did seem to care, if only the tiniest bit; but it was true that he didn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone someone who reminded him so much of Lily.

Looking ahead, Severus saw a sign for an inn hanging on the side of one of the older buildings on the street. He darted inside, hoping to lose the witch, but to no avail. She followed him like a shadow. Without saying a word to anyone, he barged up the stairs and found a room that didn’t seem to be occupied. He entered the room and flung the door closed, not bothering to lock it.

The tap-tap-tapping of footsteps outside his door indicated that the witch was pacing, and just as Severus raised his wand to cast a  _ Colloportus _ charm, she opened the door, gently knocking on it as she did so.

“What’s the point in knocking if you’re just going to barge in here uninvited?” Severus snapped at her.

The witch gave a small smile and cocked her head to the side. “Like I said, it looked like you needed someone to talk to, or someone to just be with. Either way, it looked like you shouldn’t be alone.” She took off her heavy over-robe and tossed it onto the chair.

“This isn’t my room, and I think we’d both better leave before the rightful guest comes back,” Severus said coldly, not knowing if the room was in fact occupied at all but desperate to get out of this situation.

She looked around, as if searching for someone. “I don’t see anyone here. Do you?” She took her wand out and flicked it toward the door. Severus heard the  _ click _ of the door locking.

He carded his hands through his hair. “What does it take for you to leave?” he growled, advancing and pinning her to the door with his fierce glare.

She made to kiss him, but he turned his face away before their lips could meet. He backed away and let out another frustrated growl but all this did was draw the witch closer to him. She caressed his face and cupped his cheek in her hand. “It’s okay, love, whatever you’re feeling, let it out.” Her hand was gentle and, despite her actions to this point, her tone was undemanding. Giving in to her, he placed his hand on top of hers and leaned into her touch. She leant in to kiss him again, but he stepped back. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

“You-Know-Who is gone. You should be celebrating, and I figured I could help you,” the witch said, softly running her hand along his jawline. “I can help you.”

Severus searched her face, looking for a sign that she was having him on. He tried to read her thoughts but saw nothing. Bunching up the left sleeve of his robe, he revealed to her the Dark Mark, now dormant on his pale skin. “And what of this?” he demanded. “You would  _ help  _ a bigot and a traitor?”

The witch just looked at him, her eyes seeming to penetrate him just as fiercely as he tried with her. Severus threw up his defences, afraid that she was a Legilimens as well. “Doesn’t matter. I can tell you’ve given that up.” She looked at his arm, running her fingers along the black snake, a constant reminder of his betrayal. “I can help you forget.” She took his hand and raised it to her mouth, kissing his palm. His cock gave an involuntary twitch when she brought her eyes up to look at him, burning into his own. “Let me help you.”

Severus sighed heavily, and as he did, the witch pulled him in hard and finally kissed him. He watched her as they kissed; her eyes fluttered slightly and she gave a small smile against his lips, seemingly happy in her triumph. He broke from her, and she pulled down the shoulders of her robes. Severus lifted a hand, motioning for her to stop. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice gravelly with simultaneous desire and despair.

“Yes,” she said with a breathy voice, slipping her robes off completely, revealing square shoulders and small breasts, and to Severus’ surprise, a lack of pants.

“Get on the bed then.”

The witch complied eagerly, flinging her robes to the side and climbing up onto the mattress. She scooted up toward the headboard and watched him as he removed his pants and gave his cock a few rough strokes. Surprisingly, he hardened quickly as he watched the witch start to massage her mound, then dip her finger inside her labia and touch her clitoris lightly. Severus wasted no time as he descended on the witch, casting a silent lubrication charm on his dick and sliding it into her. The witch let out a groan as he pushed in deep, touching his face as he thrusted into her.

“Remember, it’s me taking care of you,” she said as she sat up slightly. She pulled on him, signaling to him that she should be on top. Severus then shifted so that she could have her way, straddling across him and taking him in deeper in her new position.

He closed his eyes and imagined that Lily was the witch above him, the image in his head beautiful: her long auburn hair grazing her small breasts, green eyes burning with lust, skin practically glowing as she moved over him. He breathed in and could smell Lily’s scent, floral and feminine. In his mind's eye, she was kissing him, her tongue warm and soft against his. There was no harshness in her kiss or her desire, and as he moved his hands down the smooth skin of Lily’s back, he let out a moan, muffled by her passionate embrace. His hands roamed over her arse, small but pert. He brought his hand forward and grazed her vulva, giving a little pressure with the heel of his hand and deepening their kiss. Lily felt amazing to Severus, so soft under his touch, so gentle with her brushing fingertips, and so giving with her fervent kisses.

Suddenly, he felt the harshness of a bite on his bottom lip. Severus’ eyes flew open and he gripped her hips, holding her down and stopping her from moving. “Why’d you stop, love?” she panted.

Severus stared at the witch, her lips swollen from the kiss they shared. It had all been in his head. Of course it was; this wasn’t the woman he loved. Lily was dead and he had helped kill her.

A fresh wave of self-loathing washed over Severus. Moving fast, he shifted them so that he was behind the witch, thrusting his cock into her folds again. She giggled, then moaned in pleasure as he took her, but all Severus could hear was Lily laughing at a joke he told her, her chiding him for egging James Potter on during their school days, and her pleas to the Dark Lord as he cast the spell that took her life. He imagined her begging the Dark Lord for Harry’s life, and the strange look of fear that must have been painted on her face as the fatal spell hit her. He remembered the Dark Lord’s elation when he passed the prophecy along and his own self-hatred when he saw Lily’s lifeless body.

For the first time since leaving the Potters’ cottage in Godric’s Hollow, Severus allowed himself to cry, fucking the witch that looked like Lily, and he had never hated himself more.


	2. My Mind’s Aflame

**November 6, 1981: First Quarter Moon**

‘James and Lily are gone,’ he had to keep telling himself. Remus would think of another person he wanted to check on and think, ‘I should fire-call Prongs and check,’ and the harsh reality would set in again. How could Sirius have betrayed them all like this, and, worse, how could Remus have let it happen? He should have been able to see this coming; he should have seen the signs that told him Sirius was capable of treachery of this magnitude. Just two weeks before James and Lily were killed, they had shared a dinner with himself and Sirius, a double date of sorts, and no one had any clue that Sirius was planning on turning the Potters over to the Dark Lord.

Remus threaded his hands into his hair in anguish, almost on the verge of pulling his hair out. Anxiety and confusion coursed through his veins, a toxic combination that left him feeling exhausted yet keyed-up, not unlike the feeling he got just before a full moon. The feeling that he would jump out of his skin was all too familiar to him. In a way, he was almost glad when the full moon would finally come, relieving him of the discomfort he would feel beforehand.

But there was no relieving this feeling: Sirius was most likely on his way to Azkaban and Remus was alone, left to pick up the pieces of his life by himself. How and why Sirius decided to turn against the people he loved, he felt he would never know; he recalled all the mornings he had woken up in Sirius’ arms, surrounded by his comforting scent and nuzzling his tattooed chest. He imagined his impassioned kisses, tasting slightly of tobacco and firewhisky, that would inevitably drive him wild. And he remembered when they would play together: on nights when the moon was full and his wolf would take over, Sirius took his canine form and kept him calm, and they would wake the next morning, entangled in each other and sore, but safe.

‘I’ll never have that again,’ Remus thought, remembering the last night he and Sirius had spent together. The full moon had just passed, but Remus could still feel the pull for days afterwards. It was always like that; even though he only fully turned on the night when the moon was at its fullest, he could feel his wolf still creeping under his skin on the days surrounding that night. He had that feeling again, that amped-up-and-nowhere-to-go feeling, skin buzzing and craving contact. He and Sirius had fucked, Remus ramming into his lover as Sirius cried out his name. Upright on his knees, Sirius reached back and ran his hand along Remus’ jawline and into his wild, long hair. He pulled Remus’ head down and kissed him fiercely, nipping at his lip perhaps a bit too rough. He stroked his own cock as Remus pounded his arse unrelentingly. Remus bent Sirius forward, filling him over and over from the new angle, until they both came, panting and sweaty, deliciously exhausted.

Remus found his cock hardening thinking about that last time, to his dismay.  He wondered what Sirius was experiencing in Azkaban, what he was thinking, if he was thinking about him. He wondered if there were any humans working in Azkaban, if Sirius had enough food, whether he was able to bathe. Then he remembered Sirius’ betrayal, and all the requisite sadness that came with it, and he was back to square one, thinking about the whys and hows of the events from the past two weeks.

The sun started to peek through the curtains of his small window, and the chirping of birds outside roused Remus from his thoughts. The inn where he was currently staying wasn’t posh by any stretch of the imagination; in fact, the lack of amenities matched the hopelessness he felt.

Remus sat up and studied the room for probably the millionth time since news broke that the Dark Lord had been defeated. The bed on which he sat was old and rickety, the mattress and linens threadbare. A small table beside the bed was scratched and looked like it had seen better days. A few pictures hung on the walls, the only attempt the innkeeper made to spruce the place up, but cheery pictures they weren’t. Landscapes in varying shades of brown, all they depicted were small patches of forest in the thrall of autumn, leaves falling gently onto the ground.

Spartan though his room was, the house elf that belonged to the inn did a wonderful job of keeping the room clean, the one good thing he could say about the place. Remus thought about leaving a tip, but he knew the house elf wouldn’t accept it if he did, so he decided against it.

He hadn’t eaten properly since he’d been in this part of the country. Feeling his empty stomach starting to protest, Remus finally descended the stairs into the inn’s dining room and quickly found a table. Customers were spare, so he didn’t have to worry about people coming up to talk to him about the ending of the war. ‘I’m probably the one person on Earth who isn’t ecstatic about that,’ Remus thought as he sat at the scrubbed wooden table, shabby but sturdy.

The innkeeper’s wife, Acacia, finally saw Remus and limped over to him. “Didn’t realize you’d come back. You’ve been gone a while.”

Remus smiled weakly at the witch. “Don’t worry, I’ve money to pay for my room.” He watched as she set a mug of ale in front of him, then walked back to the bar. His threadbare coat sagged slightly to the side with the weight of the coins and he reached inside his pocket to retrieve the bag. “How much do I owe you?”

“Are you leaving?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him as she cleaned something on the back counter. Acacia turned to face him, a concerned look on her face, and Remus felt a rush of friendly affection for this witch he barely knew. She reminded him a bit of Professor Sprout: slightly round about the middle, full cheeks, a healthy flush to her skin, and good-natured.

“Yes, I’ll be leaving today. Heading back down south to see what’s left of my old stomping grounds.” Remus took a swig of the ale, dark and slightly sweet against his tongue. “‘S good,” he said, smacking his lips in approval.

“It’s a new brew we’re trying. Glad you approve.” Acacia came back out, still holding the sopping rag, dripping water along the way. She tossed the rag onto a nearby table. Remus swigged again from his mug, appreciating the frothiness of the brew and the warm feeling it gave him. Acacia spoke again. “So, is there something I can make for you? You look like you could use a little nosh.”

“Do you have a steak and kidney pie?”

“Coming right up, dear,” she said, patting Remus’ arm and walking back to the kitchen.

Remus watched her as she walked, his expression softening with affection. He was incredibly grateful for this witch. He’d gone on a few missions in this area during the war and stayed at the little inn numerous times. Even after he’d told her the truth, she never seemed to care about Remus’ werewolf status. “As long as you’re paid up and don’t cause any trouble, that’s all that matters to me,” she’d told him the morning after a full moon, when he’d shown up, looking a little worse for the wear and had to divulge to her his secret. He only hoped that others in the wizarding community would treat him with the same respect now that the Dark Lord was gone.

While Acacia prepared his dinner, Remus strode over to another table where a few picked-through newspapers lay strewn across the surface. He picked one from jthe day after James and Lily died, a Daily Prophet emblazoned with “DARK LORD VANQUISHED” and underneath the headline, “SIRIUS BLACK IN AZKABAN”. Remus looked at the moving picture of his lover—no, his _former_ lover—on the front page, eyes wild and mouth open in a silent scream. Fresh tears stung at his eyes but did not fall; he’d done his crying and resolved to attempt moving on.

Opening the paper, he skimmed over snippets of other articles: small blurbs profiling Death Eaters who were now in Azkaban, pieces on missing family members who had suddenly and inexplicably been found, interviews with witches and wizards from around the country giving their opinions on the latest policy changes at Gringotts. But one article in particular caught Remus’ attention.

**A BOON FOR THOSE AFFECTED BY THE MOON?**

His eyes widened. Nearly dropping his mug of ale, he read further into the short article.

’ _A new potion has been developed, possibly giving hope to those affected by lycanthropy, or werewolfism. The Wolfsbane potion, created by Damocles Belby, purportedly allows the drinker to have better control over their animal urges and aggression during their lycanthropic transformations._

_“This has been a long time in the making,” said Belby in an interview with field reporter Carmen Scrivens. “The potion will not cure lycanthropy, but will keep the afflicted more docile and controlled during their wolfic state. My hope is to get lycanthropes one step closer to a cure, which we will continue working toward.”_

_Ministry officials declined comment on whether production of the potion would be regulated.’_

Remus’ heart gave a jump as he read the short, not-even-quarter-page article. A near-cure for his affliction? He could barely believe it to be true. His eyes flitted back and forth as he read the small piece, hoping that each look over would reveal a new piece of information he needed.

A million thoughts flooded his mind as he read and re-read the article. He imagined a moon, hanging full in the sky, and him in his wolf form, curled up in bed beside his sleeping lover, calm and content, with complete control over himself. This thought buoyed his resolve, and for the first time since learning of all his losses, he let himself smile.

Acacia came back out a few minutes later with Remus’ dinner and fresh mug of ale. She set it down on the table in front of him, and Remus was sure she must have said something, but he didn’t hear any of it. His mind was buzzing with the news he’d just learned.

“Acacia, do you know where Damocles Belby lives, by chance?” he asked her eagerly, voice quivering as he was barely able to contain his excitement.

Her expression changed from warm complacency to confusion. “I’m sorry dear, I know the name but I haven’t a clue where he lives. I know there are some Belbys in the south, you might write one of them and see if he’s with them.”

Remus deflated slightly. He didn’t know any of the Belbys that Acacia spoke of, nor did he know exactly where they all supposedly lived. The glimmer of hope he had after reading about the Wolfsbane potion was suddenly dimmer.

Sitting back in his chair and folding his arms, Remus inhaled deeply and attempted to clear his mind. Normally in a time like this, it was natural for him to want to consult Sirius and James for advice on how to proceed, yet he was cruelly reminded again that this was no longer possible. He picked up his fork and forlornly started to pick at his steak and kidney pie.

As he ate, he tried to formulate a plan. He would go to the small owlery located nearby and write a short letter, asking for a meeting with Damocles Belby, and hope for the best. He had no clue if it would work; hopefully, the owls were smart and would know where the letter needed to go. In truth, he knew he had nothing else to lose and needed to try something.

Halfway through his pie, he spotted another Prophet on the table next to him. He took his wand and _Accioed_ the folded-up paper to him with a wordless spell, smoothing it open flat in front of him. Dated the day after the paper that gave him that glimmer of hope, he opened this edition and immediately saw an article that doused any hope he had left.

**MINISTRY TO HALT SALE OF MOONSEEDS**

_In a shocking overnight decision, Minister for Magic Millicent Bagnold has announced that the sale and import  of moonseeds, an important ingredient in the newly developed Wolfsbane potion, will be halted until further notice._

_“The Ministry for Magic has been greatly interested in the development of the Wolfsbane potion,” said Minister Bagnold in an official Ministry statement, “but upon further investigation, it has been discovered that its dangers were not made public. It’s an incredibly difficult potion to produce, and dangerous if brewed incorrectly. To minimize potential damage caused to the wizarding community, the Ministry will attempt to devise a way to ensure the safety of individuals needing this potion and the availability of moonseeds will be highly regulated and controlled until further notice.”_

_No word was given on when the ingredient will become readily available again._

‘Fuck,’ Remus thought. He felt a new sting as his mind raced again. He resolved to head to the owlery straight away and attempt sending that letter to Damocles Belby. He hastily downed his lunch and walk-ran to the owlery. Congratulating Belby on his discovery and asking if he was still able to produce the potion, Remus quickly scrawled a letter, addressed it as correctly as he could, and attached the roll of parchment to a large barn owl’s leg. Hooting softly, the owl flexed its wings and flew away, letter in tow.

Remus took his time walking back to the inn, coat collar turned up against the cold, late-autumn wind. Once inside, he installed himself back on his bed, having gathered all the newspapers he could find from the dining area downstairs.

News of the Dark Lord’s defeat and the fallout was all over the front pages; Remus read articles on the rumours of werewolf exploitation, signs and symptoms of the _Imperius_ curse, and apparently had fallen asleep. He was awoken by a rapping on the window. The same barn owl he sent off had returned, another small roll of parchment attached to its leg. Remus rose and jimmied the window open. The owl hopped inside onto the windowsill and ruffled its feathers, seemingly grateful to be in the warm room. It stuck its leg out to allow Remus to prise the scroll from it. He took it and patted the owl’s back. “Thank you,” he said, slipping a sickle into the pouch on the other leg. The owl hooted in gratitude, then ruffled its wings briefly before jumping back out into the cold night air.

Remus watched the bird fly away and closed the window. He hastily unfurled the scroll and scanned it for a glimpse of any encouraging words, then reading the letter more closely.

_Dear Mr. Lupin,_

_I regret to inform you that the Ministry’s ban on the sale and procurement of moon seeds have prevented me from being able to produce the Wolfsbane potion. I no longer have any of the aforementioned ingredient in my stores, so I unfortunately cannot help you. However, in the hopes that you might find someone with the proper ingredients and skill in potioneering, I include the instructions and ingredient list needed to produce the potion. Good luck in your endeavour._

_Yours,_

_Damocles Belby_

Any hope that he had held had drained from him as he read the ingredient list: Wolfsbane harvested in moonlight, dittany, powdered moonstone, moonseeds, powdered silver… not only were some of the ingredients hard to come by, but Merlin, they were expensive. Remus’ mind raced again, trying to think of ways to get what he needed. He had no money that wasn't already spoken for, he didn’t possess the skill to brew such a complicated potion, nor did he know of an apothecary who was hospitable enough toward him to have a go at it.

Memories of Lily in potions class crashed back into his head: Lily deftly stirring her brews, in the knowledge that she had done so perfectly. Her marks were always top of the class, only ever outdone by Snivellus…

‘Wait,’ Remus thought. Surely he couldn’t. The idea of asking Snape was preposterous—out of the question. The enmity gained over the years would no doubt prevent Snape from feeling any sense of compassion toward Remus.

‘But,’ Remus thought darkly, ‘I have nothing left to lose.’ It was true that there was no love lost between himself and Snape, but didn’t he owe it to Lily to honour her, to carry out what she would have done in her stead? Wouldn’t the fact that _Lily would have done this_ be enough for Snape to give his assistance?

Remus made up his mind. Gathering his meagre belongings, he tromped downstairs. Holding out a pouch of galleons to Acacia, he thanked her for the hospitality and she kissed him on each cheek. “You’re always welcome here, dear,” she said warmly.

“Thank you,” Remus replied, smiling down at her. “Tell me, where is the closest Apparition point?”


	3. A Hideous Thing Inside

**November 7: Waxing Gibbous**

Someone solid prevented Severus from stretching his legs as he awoke in his bed. The figure was pressed up against him, legs entwined with his own. He glanced out the window; the sky was black tinged with blue, striated with thin clouds. Feeling overheated from the stiff body practically covering him, he reached to his bedside table and picked up his wand. A silent _Lumos_ showed his bedmate: a young copper-haired wizard around his own age, slack-mouthed and drooling in his sleep. Blankets were bunched all around him, and as Severus got up from the bed, the wizard stirred and fluttered his eyes open. “‘Ere you goin’, love?” he mumbled, stretching his arms in Severus’ direction.

“Nowhere,” Severus said a bit coldly. He stretched his arms a bit and ran his hands through his lank, black hair. The room air was cold against his skin; he slipped on a dressing robe and headed to the loo, relieved himself, then trudged his way back to his bedroom. His bedfellow having fallen back asleep, Severus briefly considered going back to bed; the clock on his dresser indicated it was only 4:30, and they’d had quite a late night, so more sleep wouldn’t be unwelcome. But then the man gave a rumbling snore, and Severus changed his mind, opting instead to head downstairs.

The stairs creaked as he descended; not wanting to wake his guest, he whispered “ _Silencio_ ” and flicked his wand toward the offending stairs. He continued down and turned to enter the kitchen, quietly closing the door behind him. With another flick of his wand, he ignited the hob and set a kettle on for tea.

As he waited for the water to heat up, Severus leaned against the kitchen counter, recalling the events from the previous night. He’d gone to the local pub and saw the red-headed man. He’d quickly made a habit of going to the pub and had seen him every night he’d gone. Always looking aesthetically pleasing in tight denims and white tee, Severus usually gave the man a nod and, ultimately, ignored him. This particular night, however, the man had sauntered over to Severus and suggestively massaged his shoulder. Men hadn’t been Severus’ cup of tea, but in the wake of everything that had happened the past month, he gave in to the man’s advances and took him home.

Their fuck had been mediocre; much like his tryst with the witch after the Dark Lord’s fall, he’d found himself imagining it was Lily beneath him as he rammed into the man’s arse. The shock of her death was gone now, replaced by regret and longing. He often found himself thinking about her, remembering happier times they’d shared, and though he didn’t put much stock in thoughts of an afterlife, he hoped that if there was one, she was thinking of him.

The kettle whistled, pulling Severus out of his reverie. His copper-haired bedfellow finally made his way downstairs, and after trying and failing to engage Severus in a snog, saw himself out, muttering “Fucking goth git” under his breath.

Severus sneered at the man as he exited the house, then went back to the kitchen. He retrieved a teacup and poured some of the water into it, then picked a tea bag of his favourite, Earl Grey. He allowed the tea to steep for a few minutes; Severus liked his tea on the strong side. He sat down at the kitchen table and took a sip when the tea was done brewing, savouring the slightly bitter taste mingled with the faint citrus.

A tap on the window startled him, and he looked up to find an owl with a copy of that morning’s Daily Prophet attached to its midsection. Severus got up to retrieve the paper and gave the owl a bit of bread picked from a two-day-old loaf that had turned stale on the counter. The owl hooted with disdain and looked at Severus as if to say “That’s it?”

Severus shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to tell you, I haven’t got any money on me, it’s all upstairs.” The owl ruffled its feathers in exasperation and took flight from the windowsill. “Bah, fuck off,” he said after the bird, sitting back down at the table and opening the paper. Stories about fallen fighters and Death Eaters alike still littered the pages as he read.

He’d just gone back over to the kettle to pour himself another cup when a rap on the front door stopped him. “Fuck,” he uttered. The clock on the wall read about ten after five; Severus turned off the burner on the hob and lumbered to the front door.

A tall, slender figure stood in front of him when he opened the door, shrouded in a travelling cloak. The sky behind him was starting to show signs of sunrise, a faint indigo hue now peeking through the clouds and the half-moon still hanging above.

The stranger removed the hood, and Severus was looking into the eyes of Remus Lupin. Severus felt a wave of the deep-seated loathing he’d felt for so long bubble up at the sight. Lupin, part of the Marauders, who had ridiculed and tortured him during their school days, who had turned Lily against him. He looked at the man in front of him but didn’t see any of the smugness that always danced across Potter’s and Black’s faces. Lupin looked tired, eyes puffy and rimmed with red. He appeared as though he’d been travelling for some time; his hair looked badly in need of cutting and his shoulders hung forward with fatigue.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Severus asked, confused and still a bit peeved by the unwelcome visitor.

Remus stepped forward slightly. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” he said.

Severus glared at him. “Just as well as you, I expect. Again, I ask you, what are you doing here?”

Remus made to step inside the doorway but found his entry blocked by Severus. He rolled his eyes. “May I come in? I’m not a vampire, you know.” Severus sighed in exasperation but stepped aside to allow Remus entrance. “Thank you,” Remus said, stepping over the threshold. Severus stayed near the door; he imagined opening the door again and levitating Remus out of it.

All at once, a million unpleasant memories flooded Severus’ mind: the names the Marauders called him in their school days, the wrongs and slights done to him at their hands over the years, and his worst memory—the time they had used his own spell against him.

Taking off his cloak, Remus turned to face Severus. “I know there’s a little animosity between us—”

“A little animosity? That’s rich,” Severus huffed.

Remus frowned and pulled a thin hand through his hair. He crossed the front room and collapsed onto a wingback chair in the living room. “Severus, listen—” Severus laughed coldly. “Listen. All that is in the past. James and Sirius were young and headstrong. They loved the attention they got from what they did to you.”

“You’re doing a poor job of explaining to me why I shouldn’t _Expulso_ your arse out of here. Need I remind you of what they called me, what they said about me, the way they used my own spell against me?”

“They shouldn’t have done any of that to you. They were barbaric and you didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. But I don’t think you’re completely innocent either. I can think of plenty of times that you spoke ill toward James and Lily both, and need _I_ remind _you_ that you probably invented that spell to use against them? You were no angel either, Sev.”

Severus’ eyes darkened immediately. He felt a fire ignite within him at Remus saying the name that only Lily used for him. The name was sacred to Severus, and here was this charlatan pretending it meant something to him and deigning to speak a name that in fact meant nothing to him. “Do not call me that,” he said, his hand reaching for his wand that was stowed in a pocket of his robe.

Remus didn’t flinch at the motion. “Hold on, hold on. I come in peace.” He put his hands up in contrition. Severus kept his hand in his pocket, fingers wrapped around the base of his wand. Anger and confusion coursed through him and he was barely able to keep from shaking. “Look,” Remus continued, “I’ll grant you that we’ve never been intimate enough to be on a nickname basis, but I didn’t come here to rile you up or wheedle you. Merlin knows James and Sirius did enough of that themselves.” He lowered his arms slowly. “I came here to ask a favour of you.”

The tone in Remus’ voice wasn’t aggressive, but Severus couldn’t keep his upper lip from rising into a snarl. “A favour,” he scoffed. “A favour for someone who saw how they treated me and never stopped them, someone who knew what they thought of me and never stepped in. Someone who helped—“

Remus threw his arms back up in exasperation. “I should have seen this coming. I should I have known you’d never be able to move on. What happened then happened, we can’t change it, the best we can do is try to move on.”

“Save it,” Severus spat. He had lived with all of this regret, shame, and guilt for long enough that it was second nature. The weight of it all cowed him suddenly and he threw himself onto the couch. “You don’t understand what life was like for me! Ridiculed for my appearance, spurned by everyone because of my demeanour, looked over because I wasn’t a star Quidditch player or a self-proclaimed ‘bad boy.’ But she saw past all that. Lily was the one person who treated me decently, the one person in all the world who never poked fun, and I failed her. I killed her.”

“No, you didn’t. The Dark Lord killed her, not you. Severus, we have all made bad decisions. But maybe it’s time to start making reparations.” Remus got up from the chair and sat back down next to Severus, keeping a bit of distance between them. “The favour I’m asking of you is not a small task. I need your help making a potion.”

“The Wolfsbane potion?” Severus asked. He should have guessed. Why else would Remus ask a favour from him?

“You’ve been reading the Prophet. Yes, the Wolfsbane Potion. It could save my life, and potentially the lives of other people, and it’s something that only you can do. I think Lily would know that, and I think she’d want you to help.”

“She’d approve of you manipulating me for your own gain?” Severus cocked an eyebrow.

“Not manipulating, just trying to reason with you. You know that she’d want you to help. The Wolfsbane Potion is incredibly complex and fickle, and you’re the only person I know who has the skill to brew it. Lily would know that, and I sincerely think she’d want you to help. You know it, too.”

‘The man is good,’ Severus thought. He knew that Remus had neither the skill nor resources to brew the potion himself. He knew, too, that he was right about Lily; he could practically hear her plea. The thought of making the potion, the thought of helping this man, this _wolf,_ practically made Severus see stars with the disdain he felt. But Remus was right; Lily would want him to do this. Lily would have pleaded with him to do this, and so his choice was clear.

“Do you have the instructions for the potion?” he asked flatly.

A small, hesitant smile played across Remus’ lips. “Of course I do. But Severus, there’s one other thing I must ask of you. The full moon is approaching, and I need somewhere to stay during my transition.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “I’ve a shed in the garden. There isn’t much stored there, so I suppose you can use that. We’ll need to reinforce the structure; I don’t wish to need to rebuild it after your transformation.”

“Thank you, Severus. Lily would be proud of you, setting aside our differences to help someone in need,” Remus said, a little smirk quirking at the corner of his lips.

“Do not make me regret this, Remus. You said yourself that I’m the only one who can help you. I can just as easily say no.”

Remus smiled and reached inside his coat pocket, pulling out a shrunken travelling bag and murmuring _Engorgio_ , returning it to full size. “Duly noted,” he said drily.

***

**November 10, 1981: One day before full moon**

“The instructions say that it’s supposed to emit blue smoke. That looks purple to me.”

Three days had passed since Remus visited Severus and asked him to do “The Favour,” as Severus kept referring to it, and they had been working on the potion almost non-stop during that time. Severus had had to call in a couple of favours of his own; most of the ingredients he had in his stores, but a few, specifically the moonseeds and powdered moonstone, needed to be procured from less-than-reputable sources. Remus tried to be of assistance when he could: chopping or crushing ingredients, going out to find more aconite, or stirring while Severus waved his wand in the complicated configurations that were outlined in the potion instructions. Mostly, though, he worked on magically reinforcing the structure of Severus’ shed in preparation for the full moon and offered moral support and encouragement, which Severus accepted with simple grunts of acknowledgement.

“Circe’s tits. Did you add another blossom of aconite? The instructions specifically say ‘twelve and three-quarters blossoms.’” Severus stopped stirring the potion as they tried to deduce where they had gone wrong, yet again. Their supply of moonseeds was starting to dwindle and Severus was concerned that the more they tried and failed at the potion, the harder it would be to get the more black-market items as the sellers’ supply dwindled as well.

“I measured the blossoms to the millimetre. Maybe you gave a quarter stir too many?”

“Possibly, though unlikely. If it had been too much stirring, I think the potion would have turned into sludge. It’s more likely too much aconite.”

Remus frowned. “Is there a way to deactivate some of the ingredients?” he asked somewhat hopefully. He too was aware that prospects were beginning to look a little bleak and was trying to hold out hope that they would finally master the beast of a potion.

“For the last time, Remus, there is not. I think we need to break for a moment.

“I think that we’re getting closer though. The potion itself looked right, it’s just the smoke that was off. We need to try one more time.”

Severus heaved his shoulders up as he sighed. To him, the smoke coming from the potion could definitely be blue, but he was slowly beginning to trust Remus’ perspective on things.

Severus went over that thought again. He was beginning to trust Remus _. Remus._ After just _three days._ Granted, they were cooped up in Severus’ basement all day long, working tirelessly to get the Wolfsbane potion right, but not once did anything explode with a misfired _Depulso,_ nor did anyone receive a punch about the face, though Severus couldn’t say the thought hadn’t occurred to him. ‘Desperate werewolves must make strange bedfellows,’ Severus concluded.

All the same, he felt his focus beginning to ebb. Feeling a sudden need to get out, he stood up from his stool and put on his cloak.

“Where are you going?” Remus asked incredulously. “We need to have one more try before the full moon tomorrow! I’ll be worthless all day, so we need to do it now!”

Sighing heavily, Severus continued getting ready to step out, lacing up his boots with gloved fingers. “Remus, I need a break. We’ve been at this all day, the last three attempts were shit, and I need to get out for a few minutes.” He opened the front door and made to step out.

“Dammit Severus, do not leave this!” Remus bellowed. The volume and sheer desperation in Remus’ voice shocked Severus and he froze, his hand still on the doorknob. “I’ve had it with your breaks and I need you! You will come back here and we will finish this potion!” 

He had never heard Remus speak in this tone before. Remus was usually so calm, so collected, that to hear him raise his voice like this caused a shiver to run down Severus’ spine. He gently closed the door, almost afraid of making too much noise. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Remus carded a hand through his hair, letting it fall back into his face. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to suddenly be at a loss for words. Severus studied his face in the silence that followed Remus’ outburst. His eyes looked wild and scared, darting around the room as if looking to see if anyone else saw his reaction. A flush had risen in his cheeks; Severus wasn’t sure if that was because of what happened, or if maybe he had a fever from the coming full moon, but he would have been lying if he’d said it wasn’t good to see a bit of colour in Remus’ face. He’d been looking wan since he’d shown up and didn’t seem to be sleeping well. The warm feeling that seeing the bit of life come back into Remus’ face sparked hit Severus a little harder than he would have liked to admit.

Severus took off his boots and cloak again. Remus’ breathing was a bit more laboured now and he eked out a shaky, “Basement.” Severus dazedly complied, with Remus following close behind. It would be another long night, no doubt, but he would do as Remus asked. A bit of the wolf had peeked through Remus’ normally calm demeanour, and Severus found he, strangely, liked it.


	4. Here Comes the Moon

**November 11, 1981: Full moon**

Wednesday dawned and Severus woke on the mattress he had transfigured the night before. He had tried to get Remus upstairs and into bed the moment their focus started to wane, but Remus persisted, insisting they work through till morning. Severus tried to reason with him: “You won’t have time to drink it all before the moon anyway.”; “After the moon, we’ll have a month to finish it!”; “Supplies are running low. We should conserve what we have for when we’re able to work without falling asleep.” But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Remus was determined to finish the potion and Severus agreed to sleep in the basement in case anything happened and Remus needed assistance.

Even though Remus’ energy was frantic and unfocused at times, Severus found himself admiring the way he held onto hope through their mishaps and mistakes. He could see that Remus wanted badly for this to work and had a passion in his eyes that Severus found… intriguing. The tenacity with which he worked was refreshing to Severus and he couldn’t help soaking in that energy.

Severus sat up and looked around, finding Remus curled up on the hard floor next to the mattress. His brow glistened with a thin sheen of sweat despite the cold basement air, and the blush that had come into his face during their row the previous night remained. ‘The full moon,’ Severus thought; the full moon was coming that night, and Remus’ body could tell. 

They hadn’t succeeded in finishing the potion that night and were running low on aconite, so Severus bundled up and stepped out into the cold morning air to search for more. ‘I should probably just start growing it at this point,’ he thought as he walked. He stalked along the beaten path that led to a small wooded area near Spinner’s End. The wind had picked up a bit and he pulled his scarf up around his face, a knitted length of green wool accented with small grey stripes, a leftover from his Hogwarts days.

He let his mind wander as he continued down the dirt path, scanning the vegetation for the signature purple blossoms of the aconite plant. He found himself thinking back on his time at Hogwarts; these thoughts were never far from his mind these days, especially with Remus under his roof. Severus thought back on the times the Marauders had ridiculed him, and in his mind’s eye, he could see Remus sitting on the outskirts of whichever scene Severus conjured. Even though Remus may not have been the one taunting him, the little smirk he’d wear or the small snorts of laughter he’d let slip didn’t go unnoticed by Severus.

A bubble of frustration began to rise within him and he could feel his cheeks redden with a blush that had nothing to do with the chilly autumn air. How could he have let Remus so willingly into his home? Did he just expect Severus to bend to his commands so compliantly? Severus continued to seethe as he rashly tore a few aconite plants up by the roots; he had no idea why he was still helping the wolf in his house, but he was in deep enough now that he might as well see things through. Thoughts of his potion stores also crossed his mind and he made a mental note to write to Mundungus Fletcher to see about getting some more of the black-market ingredients that were running low.

He turned around to make his way back home and was stopped in his tracks by a glowing silvery wolf: a Patronus. “Severus,” Remus’ voice boomed through the Patronus’ mouth, “where are you?!” The urgency in Remus’ voice sent another shiver through Severus and he watched the wolf dissipate into thin wisps of white mist. He sneered at the mist as he stowed the uprooted aconite plants into the rucksack he’d brought with him and made his way back up the path toward his neighbourhood.

Once inside the door to his home, Severus didn’t bother setting his things down. “Remus!” he called. Remus didn’t respond. ‘Wanker,’ Severus thought as he went down to the empty basement and set to unpacking the aconite plants, stripping the blossoms and setting the roots aside so he could try to pot them later. Remus wasn’t down here, so he must have gone upstairs to shower before the moon that night. He continued working on potting the aconite for the better part of a half-hour, not noticing Remus’ darkened eyes, watching him from the basement stairs.

The light in the basement was dim, but when Severus turned around and caught Remus’ eyes watching him, he could see his furled brow and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Where were you?” Remus growled at him.

“I went out for a walk,” Severus said matter-of-factly. “I got some more aconite. I got away for a while. You might try the same.” He checked his pocket watch. “It’s nearly ten, have you had breakfast?”

Remus steadied his breathing. “I thought you’d be working more on the potion.”

Severus scoffed. “Remus, we’ve been at it for days now. Even if we were to finally get the potion perfect, the moon comes tonight, and you have to drink it everyday for a week  _ before  _ the full moon. I think we should take a break from the bloody thing.”

“How can you say that?” Remus exclaimed, throwing his arms up and tangling his fingers in his hair. “We’re so close to getting it done, and you want to just take a break?”

“You’re not listening to reason,” Severus said calmly, setting down the aconite roots and terra cotta planter. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “I think the coming moon is getting to you. Your emotions are running high, you haven’t been feeling well the past couple of days—“

Remus knitted his brows. “Don’t pretend that you care about my well-being.”

Severus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Where is this coming from? You’re speaking like a madman and acting as though I owe you something. Remember, I’m the one who let you into his home; I’m the one who is helping brew this fucking potion. I’m the one who should be upset with you barking orders at me. I don’t owe you a damn thing, Remus, and you’d do bloody well to remember that!”

Remus’ hand instinctively reached for his wand, and Severus responded in kind. He held up his non-wand hand, signaling for Remus to calm down. “Look, we’ve been cooped up for days. I think you should have a bit of breakfast, maybe get out for a while, and I can give it a go tonight while you’re… indisposed.”

Remus narrowed his eyes and considered Severus’ words for a few moments. Severus looked at Remus, mulling over everything that had just happened. A wild look had taken over his visage and his eyes were rimmed with red. Remus removed his hand from his wand handle, and Severus did the same. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He carded a hand through his hair, letting it fall into his eyes. “What have you got in the way of breakfast? Maybe I can make us something,” Remus conceded, trying to restrain a sheepish grin from playing at his lips. Severus rolled his eyes and led the way upstairs.

After a breakfast of toast, yoghurt, and fruit, Severus set to working a bit more on the potion. Remus followed him back down to the basement but did little more than pace the floor and ask Severus incessant questions: “Is it done?” “Do you need more powdered moonstone?” “Are you sure that was three-quarters of a blossom?”

Remus was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he peered over Severus’ shoulder, and his brow started glistening with sweat again. Severus started to feel a little anxious too, watching the frenetic energy that Remus was trying and failing to stifle. Severus checked his watch again: it was now 3:20pm. With moonrise looming and Remus growing more and more agitated, Severus quickly tried to think of ways to calm him down. “Remus, can you sit down for a minute? You’re making me nervous,” Severus asked gently. Remus Accioed a stool and sat it next to Severus but couldn’t keep his leg from bouncing. He kept hitting Severus’ worktable with his knee and nearly caused him to spill the half-finished potion. Severus set down the phial he’d been holding and scrubbed at the stubble on his cheeks. “Remus, I think it’s time for you to get out a bit. You’re not even able to sit for two minutes without fidgeting.”

Remus stood up from the stool a little too quickly and sent it clattering behind him. “I’m sorry, Severus. The moon always does this to me. I’ll get out of your hair.” He turned and climbed the stairs, closing the door behind him.

With Remus gone, Severus was able to focus more wholly on the potion. He knew he was getting closer when the potion emitted the signature blue smoke. He stirred it the requisite number of times but became discouraged when the potion took on an ever so slightly rancid odour. He must have had done the wandwork incorrectly.

Severus looked at his watch again: five past seven. Time had gotten away from him as he worked. He cleaned up his workspace and ascended to the ground floor. He walked into the kitchen, expecting to find Remus there, but found it empty. “Odd,” he said aloud and walked out the back door into the garden. He called out to Remus but received no answer, so he continued his search, making his way through the house. There was no light coming from the shed, and opening the door, he found it empty as well.

‘Fuck,’ Severus thought, ‘Where the hell is he?’ The moon would rise soon, and Remus was nowhere to be found. Severus had no way to contact him, either. He could produce a Patronus but it was never corporeal these days, and even if he could, he had no clue how to enable it to speak as Remus’ had in the woods earlier that day.

‘Remus is intelligent,’ Severus told himself. Surely, he’d come back before the moon rose and would lock himself up in the shed. He went back inside, having cast a modified Intruder charm on the shed door that would alert him when Remus entered the shed.

Severus sat down to a bit of supper and had just finished when he heard his wand vibrating on the kitchen table. The Intruder charm had finally been triggered, and Severus breathed a sigh of relief. He went up to his bedroom to get ready for bed and watched the moon outside his bedroom window as he undressed. It hung bright white in the sky, and Severus found his mind wandering to Remus and what the transformation must be like for him. He wondered how painful the process was, and whether the reinforcements they’d put on the shed would hold. They had checked them a thousand times, both the magical and the structural, but Severus was still anxious to get through the night and have everything, and everyone, in one piece.

Climbing into bed, Severus still thought of Remus and how he must be feeling at this moment, or if he was even capable of human feelings at this point. He wondered what it was like to lose all control and be at the mercy of something as powerful as Remus’ wolf. The loss of free will must have been devastating, and the thought that people could get hurt if something went wrong with their preparations terrified him. Severus felt a pang of sympathy for Remus, sharp and unexpected. ‘He must feel like this all the time,’ Severus mused as he imagined Remus waking the morning after a moon when he wasn’t contained, when he was allowed to roam about in his wolf form, with nothing holding him back from giving into his lupine urges. The anxiety, the  _ fear _ of things that possibly happened during his transformation must have been utterly debilitating at times. And the worst of it: Remus had no control over it.

Thinking on all this, Severus looked out the window again and thought he could hear a howl coming from outside. They’d put Muffliato and Disillusionment charms on the shed to try keeping the noise and prying eyes to a minimum, but Severus began to doubt the strength of their reinforcements. Every once in a while, he sat up and looked out his window at the shed. The shed was still intact and the door still attached: so far, so good. He tried to relegate the doubts to the back of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” he said, getting up from his bed and slipping his dressing gown back on. He went downstairs to the living room and wrapped himself in a blanket on the couch, trying to distract himself by reading the latest issue of  _ Potion-Maker’s Press _ . He thought it strange that no mention was made of the Wolfsbane Potion, despite the issue having come out just a couple of days before. ‘Ministry bastards,’ he thought maliciously.

Reading on the latest potions news wasn’t enough to keep his anxiety from coursing through him. After an hour of slogging through an article about research on the possible uses of Muggle medications in Wizarding potioneering, he set the magazine down and rapped his fingertips on the couch arm, letting his mind wander,  reflecting on what a strange turn life had taken in the past two months. ‘Well, past couple of years,’ he corrected himself.

He checked his watch again: half past one. In spite of everything clouding his mind, the anxiety felt, and the knowledge that Remus was outside experiencing his own, unknowable suffering, Severus felt his eyes getting heavy and drifted to sleep, dreaming fitfully of the full moon and gnashing teeth.

***

**November 12, 1981: The next day**

The day after the full moon was always hard on Remus. Sore muscles, dislocated joints, scratches and gouges to his skin: all evidence of the previous nights horrors. it had become all-too-familiar to him, and this morning was no different. He was curled up on the floor with no blankets or clothing and his bare skin protested at the chill in the air. Remus gingerly sat up and looked around: parts of the walls had splintered, probably Remus had thrown himself against them. The windows were miraculously unbroken, but some worktables had been upended and shattered. He had stowed his wand in a box that night and placed it on top of some shelves; once it had been retrieved, he spent a few moments repairing some the damage done to the shed’s contents.

As he went about putting the shed back together, Remus couldn’t help but be grateful that Severus agreed to this arrangement. He knew that Severus had to swallow some difficult feelings, and Remus had to admit, his own feelings toward the man the Marauders had tauntingly called “Snivellus” were softening a bit.

Remus had just started repairing the splintered planks on a wall when he heard the door open behind him. Severus stepped inside and closed the door gently, but remain rooted to the spot. “How are you feeling?” he asked Remus, a little coldly. Remus looked at him; anger and something else—hurt, maybe?—were written all over his face.

“As normal as could be expected, the day after a full moon,” Remus answered. “Sore as fuck, and badly in need of a coffee. Have you any?”

Severus bit his lower lip and clenched his jaw. “Possibly. I’m more of a tea-drinker, as you know.” He stepped a foot further inside the room but stopped. He turned around as if to leave, then rounded on Remus,  dark eyes piercing him. “Where did you go last night?” he asked, his voice sharp and dangerous.

“I went out for a run, then I came back, that’s all.”

Severus laughed derisively. “‘That’s all?’ You were gone for hours! I had no way of contacting you, no idea where you’d gone and no clue when you’d return! When you asked me for my help and refuge, I assumed you’d keep me abreast of these things!”

Guilt caused a flush to travel up Remus’ neck and face, colouring the pallor that the morning-after always brought. Not wanting to give in, Remus squared his shoulders. “Funny, it’s not easy not knowing someone’s whereabouts, is it? Think of how I felt when  _ you  _ disappeared without a trace!”

“That was different. I wasn’t at risk of harming people.  _ You _ were, and you had no right to do so!”

Remus knew Severus was right: if he hadn’t gotten back to Severus’ in time, who knows what could have happened? It sickened him to think on it, and he let his shoulders droop in defeat. ”I apologise. Next time, I’ll be more careful.”

Severus looked a bit bemused at the sudden change in Remus’ tone. “If there is a next time,” he retorted. “We’ll have to see. Once you’re done here, you ought to come back inside. It’s chilly out here and you’ll catch cold.”

Remus thought he saw Severus’ expression soften just a bit at those words, and he found himself smiling at him as Severus turned to leave.


	5. Open My Heart and Let it Bleed on Yours

**November 14, 1981: Waning Gibbous**

Severus felt as if he was walking on eggshells. Even though he and Remus had tentatively mended fences, neither one seemed eager to talk about the argument they’d had after the moon. And while no punches had been thrown nor any curses cast, Severus felt a tension underlying all of their interactions, just one misplaced word away from bubbling over. To avoid any further conflict, he’d resolved to talk about no more than the potion and the weather, and Remus seemed to have the same idea.

“Uuugh,” Remus moaned softly, startling Severus as he sat at the kitchen table, nursing his tea and sifting through that morning’s copy of the  _ Prophet _ . Remus still looked peaky, even after a couple of days spent sleeping, and Severus couldn’t help but feel for the man. To be relegated to such an existence against your will seemed terrible, and he found that he sympathised a bit with him.

Remus dragged himself to the cooker and poured some water from the kettle into a cup Severus had set out for him. He dunked a tea bag into the hot water and carried the cup to the table, sitting across from Severus. “Anything good?” he asked, nodding at the paper.

“Not unless you consider changes at Gringotts good,” Severus answered with a slight chuckle.

Remus shook his head with a smirk and sipped his tea. “No, I don’t consider that to be anything.” He leaned forward and scanned the front page of the paper: mundane headlines ( _ “STAFFING CHANGES AT GRINGOTTS CAUSING DELAYS”, “CANNONS TRADE MILLET TO ARROWS” _ ) made Remus roll his eyes and snigger in disdain. “Barely two weeks out from the war, and we’re already back to news as normal? Fucking hell.” He leaned back in his chair, eyeing Severus’ impassive face.

Severus merely shrugged. “People want a sense of normalcy, which they didn’t have for so long. Can you blame them for wanting to go back to how things were?”

Remus considered Severus’ words for a moment and Severus watched him as he mulled things over. “I suppose you’re right,” Remus conceded. They continued sipping tea and passing pages of newspaper between them. It was a slightly awkward silence, just on the other side of uncomfortable.

Severus folded up the section of paper he’d been studying and tossed it onto the table. “I’m going to go downstairs and see to the potion. Care to join me?”

“Sure,” Remus said, draining the last bit of tea from his cup and taking it to the sink. He followed Severus downstairs, and Severus went to the cauldron, igniting the kindling beneath it. Remus watched him as he set to cutting up ingredients, not sure what he should be doing as he generally ended up being in the way. “So, what can I do to help?”

“You can grind up some moonstone, but make sure you measure it after you’ve ground a bit. We don’t want to waste any.”

“Of course.” Remus walked to the counter on the wall and plunked a bit of the iridescent white rock into a mortar. He carried it to the table in the middle of the room where Severus stood and set to grinding the stone. The instructions stated they needed three pinches of the powder, and Remus looked as if he were defusing a dung bomb: his tongue was caught between his teeth and eyes intently focused on his task. “Okay, what next?” he asked once he was done.

Severus looked up from the cauldron, feeling a bit of that old frustration bubbling. He worked best when it was quiet, and having another person sharing his workspace and needing direction wasn’t the ideal working condition. “Why don’t you go and measure out the essence of dittany?” Remus was starting to look better the longer they moved around; the after-effects of the moon must finally have been wearing off. He nodded and went to the cupboard to gather the necessary equipment as Severus continued pouring over the instructions and trying to replicate them.

An hour passed, and still no passable potion had been produced. “Fuck,” Severus muttered as he threw down his wand to the floor haphazardly. A spark of unintended magic flared from it and caught the closest object: the bottom of Remus’ robes.

Remus leapt from the stool he was sitting on, yelping “Argh!” as he tried to stamp out the fire that the spark of magic caused. Not wanting to make matters worse, Severus kept his distance and Remus put the fire out quickly enough.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Remus panted, faint smoke still rising from the sleeve of his robes. It looked as though a bit of his hair had been singed too.

“Apologies, Remus, it was a mistake.”

“A mistake? What are you doing, just throwing your wand around like a toy? You ought to be more careful! You could seriously hurt someone, being so careless!”

Something within Severus broke. Even though there was a tenuous peace between him and Remus, something in the tone of Remus’ remonstration grated at Severus and sparked at the feeling of unease he’d been trying to stifle for days now. Suddenly, the fact that Remus was correcting him seemed to pull at all the memories from school, all the torment and misdeeds he’d experienced rushed through his mind. “You’re going to chide  _ me _ for being careless? You really think you have the right to come at me, when you’re the one who put this village in jeopardy just three days ago? Fuck you, Lupin.”

Remus gave an almost-imperceptible wince at the curse, then steeled his expression. “Oh, here we go again! I came back, didn’t I? No one was put in danger, were they? Yes, I should have come back a little sooner, but everything was okay in the end. So can we just get back to working on the damn potion?”

“No, we can’t just leave this. We have some issues that need to be aired. We’ve gone too long in this false… union. I need to say some things to you, and you need to listen.” Severus’ normally expressionless face was alive as he ranted, his cheeks becoming redder the more animated he got.  

“Go on, then. Lay out all your grievances, Severus. I’m all ears.” Remus stretched his arms out in welcome, a gesture that renewed the ire within Severus.

“I don’t understand you, Remus. I don’t understand how you can be so flippant at times. How can you—”

Remus cut him off, his eyes darkening. “I’m not flippant.”

“Will you let me finish?” Severus asked impatiently. “See, this was always the problem with you and your  _ friends _ in school. You did and said things, hurtful, dangerous things, without giving a second thought to how your actions would affect people. You just acted rashly, and damn the consequences.”

Remus looked flabbergasted. “So now we’re talking about things that happened when we were children? I thought we would avoid these issues.”

“How  _ could _ we avoid them? You have no idea what it was like for me back then, seeing precious Potter and his friends doing whatever the hell they pleased with no fucks given. And what they did to me that day by the lake was, frankly, monstrous. How could you condone that behaviour? How could you have let them treat someone like that?”

Remus reddened and lowered his head in embarrassment. He took a second to think on Severus’ words, then spoke with a softer tone. “You’re right. What James and Sirius did to you was awful. They shouldn’t have humiliated you like that and I should have intervened. I’m sorry for that.”

Severus was a bit taken aback at Remus’ admission. “If you knew what they were doing was wrong, why didn’t you ever stop them? So much hostility could have been avoided.”

“I don’t know,” Remus said, scrubbing at the stubble on his chin. He worried his bottom lip as he thought. “I guess I just wanted to fit in. Things were hard for me back then too, Severus. It wasn’t all cupcakes and lollies, being a werewolf with no support system. James, Sirius and Peter took me in and befriended me and never cared about my status as a werewolf. They were the first people who knew about my condition and didn’t abandon me, and I wanted to hold onto that. Surely you know what it’s like to find companions and want to keep that.”

Severus lowered his eyes to the floor. Memories of Lily sprang to mind: playing with Lily at the park, lying in the grass watching clouds, their first moments of shared magic. All of it wrenched his heart; he did know how Remus felt. They shared the same desire to be accepted, to be loved, and had it ripped away from them. He sat on a stool at their worktable, hands wringing in his lap. “I know. That’s part of why it hurt so badly when James and Sirius mocked me that day. I lost the only true friend I had because of them.”

It was Remus’ face that darkened now. “No, Severus, you lost her friendship because of what you said to her. You called her your friend, and then when your pride was hurt, you lashed out at the one person who tried to help you and reach out to you. If you had truly been her friend, you wouldn’t have called her what you did.”  

Shame welled up in Severus as Remus’ words sank in. He was right; he’d treated Lily abysmally, and even though he blamed James and Sirius for what happened, he had no one but himself to blame for driving Lily away. He’d lived in denial for all these years, and the truth of everything seemed to bite hard.  

Severus nodded his head slowly in acknowledgement. He looked up at Remus, whose expression had gone from stony to somewhat softer. “So it seems we’ve both behaved horribly, and neither one of us learned from our mistakes. But the least we can do now is own up to our faults and try to atone for them. Agreed?”

Remus extended his right hand toward Severus. He eyed it a bit warily, then took Remus’ hand and shook it in accord.

“I still say you’re a prat,” Severus said, releasing Remus’ hand.

Remus snickered and turned up one corner of his lips in a smirk. “Noted. Wanker.”


	6. Show You What All that Howl Is For

**November 30, 1981: Last Quarter Moon**

Nearly a month had passed since the Dark Lord’s fall and the beginning of the tenuous alliance between Remus and Severus. They settled into a courteous partnership as they worked, every day getting closer to completing the potion. Though Remus remained hopeful that they would be successful, the moon seemed to loom over him larger than ever, and his situation felt more desperate than before. He assumed it was because they were  _ so close  _ that the anxiety and longing he felt became almost unbearable.

The next full moon was just a week and a half away, and they had the closest attempt yet to a successful Wolfsbane Potion. They’d practised a few times using inert ingredients, attempting with real ingredients only when they felt confident they had the potion down. But there was always some foible: a misspoken word, a mishandled wand, or just the tiniest bit of ingredient that always ruined their trial. Remus could feel them getting closer though, and it seemed that Severus felt the same.

The animosity between Remus and Severus had lightened somewhat as well, giving way to polite conversation and, at least on Remus’ end, a greater appreciation for each other. He found himself watching Severus work with softer eyes than before, and he appreciated Severus’ shouts of frustration when their attempts proved unsuccessful. Severus also seemed to have settled into their newfound amity, stifling laughter when Remus made jokes under his breath and humming quietly as they worked. He appeared less stony since their row and Remus was thankful to have moved on from the awkwardness of their first weeks under the same roof.

Remus awoke that Monday, feeling lighter somehow. The bed in Severus’ guest room had started to feel homey and he snuggled further under the duvet for just a moment before throwing it back and rising. He found Severus in the kitchen frying bacon as he monitored a bewitched whisk stirring eggs in a bowl.

“Morning,” Remus said somewhat cheerily as he poured hot water into a teacup that was waiting for him on the counter.

“Good morning,” Severus answered, looking up from the eggs in the bowl and giving a small smile. He removed the bacon from the skillet and, with a swish of his wand, levitated the bowl over a clean pan and let the egg mixture pour out of it. The scent of breakfast made Remus’ stomach rumble loudly and the tea he’d prepared did little to assuage it.

After finishing their breakfast, Severus went down to the basement to prepare for that day’s work. They’d spent the previous evening gathering supplies that were readily available, and Severus had owled Mundungus Fletcher again to obtain more moonseeds as they’d been running low. “Thank Merlin for Dung,” Severus had said. “I’m not sure how he’s able to get these so easily, but I’m so glad he can.”

Remus spent his morning helping Severus when he could: slicing blossoms, crushing moonseeds, fetching other potions as needed.

Hours passed, and Severus finally put down the silver knife he’d been using to slice more valerian roots. “Okay, I think it’s time. Are you ready to give this another try?”

Remus looked up from a book he’d been reading on the history of blood curses, his eyes clapping fiercely onto Severus’. ‘This is it,’ he thought. He’d had a different feeling all day, almost as if he’d drunk an entire phial of Felix Felicis, which now didn’t seem like a bad idea. Somehow he knew that this attempt would be different, that this time, they would do it.

***

“You’re sure this aconite was picked at moonrise?” Severus asked, perhaps a bit more nervously than he wanted.

Remus nodded. “Yes, yes, I picked it just last night at 7:06 PM and I measured the blossom proportions three times. I’m not making that mistake again. Did you run through the wandwork again?”

“Yes. Do you think we’re ready?” Severus looked at Remus through the hair that had fallen in his face, his eyes bright with nervous energy.

Remus felt a renewed jolt of anxiety rip through his body. The potion was nearly ready; all that was left to do was add the aconite, say the incantation and perform the wandwork, then let it steep until the next moonrise. They had practised using innocuous ingredients and had gone over the instructions countless times. They were as ready as they could be.

“I think so,” Remus muttered, trying to contain his excitement and trepidation, his lips slowly stretching into a smile.

Severus nodded resolutely. “Alright. I’ll begin then.”

Remus watched Severus as he added the aconite blossoms, gently scraping them off the cutting board and into the bubbling contents of the cauldron. Severus stirred the blossoms, then picked up his wand.

As Severus performed the incantation, Remus allowed himself to imagine what the effects of the potion would be. The  _ Prophet _ article and Belby’s instructions both stated that he wouldn’t be cured, but that he would keep his human mental faculties during the transformation. ‘Does that mean,’ Remus thought, ‘that I’ll remember what happens during my transformation?’ He’d never been able to remember anything from the full moons, just the pain during the turn and after he returned to human form. The times when his wolf took over were a blur to him, and he relished the thought that these days would be over. He imagined himself in his lupine form, docile and quiet, lying on a rug and dozing as the night wore on.

And yet, Remus still felt the pang of doubt. What if it didn’t work after all? What if they counted all the blossoms, said all the right words, made all the right motions, and still the potion proved ineffective? It would utterly break his heart, and Remus found himself mourning a potential life he’d not even experienced yet. The potion  _ had _ to work; they’d put too much blood, sweat and tears into for it not to work.

_ “Tamen ad vitam, et in maledictum, et in lupum fieri dormant.”  _ Remus seemed to awaken from a dream as he heard Severus say the incantation and flourish his wand one last time over the potion. Both men held their breath, waiting for the potion to give an indication that it was complete. They watched for what seemed an exorbitant amount of time and Remus felt the faint pang of disappointment and grief start to creep through his body.

He gave in momentarily to his dark thoughts but was jarred back to reality by a yelp of excitement coming from Severus. Remus looked at Severus, then looked at the cauldron: faint blue smoke was rising from the contents bubbling inside.

“I don’t believe it,” Remus said, incredulous. He took a knife from the table and dipped the tip into the potion and brought it to his tongue. “It worked.”

“It worked! Remus, we did it!” Severus was uncharacteristically jubilant at their accomplishment, black eyes bright with excitement.

Remus let himself get swept up in Severus’ quiet enthusiasm. “We fucking did it!” he exclaimed, jumping up from his stool and pirouetting on the balls of his feet, sending the stool crashing to the floor. He ran to Severus and, in his excitement, pulled the other man’s face to his. Without thinking about what he was doing, without worrying about what this would mean or if it meant anything at all, Remus crashed their lips together. He watched Severus’ eyes widen at the unexpected embrace.

He hadn’t meant to kiss Severus. The thrill of finally completing the potion, the anticipation that he’d been fighting for days, it all bubbled over and Remus let himself sink into the moment. His arms fell to Severus’ sides and wrapped around his waist, pulling the man closer. He felt Severus stiffen his body at first, then relax as he raised his own hands to Remus’ face, one hand working into his hair and cradling the nape of his neck. Their lips opened as they deepened the kiss, letting their tongues find each other, and Remus felt the first flutters of… arousal? Severus lightly pressed his weight against Remus’ body, adding a bit of friction and sending a renewed  _ zing _ that travelled down his spine and into his cock. He thought he could feel Severus starting to harden too, and pressed his pelvis floor firmly against him. Any thoughts of  _ this is insane,  _ or  _ what are you doing? _ were lost as Remus’ fingers found the front opening of Severus’ robes and slipped inside, reaching the hem of his shirt and sliding his hands underneath it. He felt the smooth plane of Severus’ abdomen, slender and taut, and—

Severus backed away quickly, bumping into the work table behind him. He was unsteady on his feet and panting, his eyes wild with confusion. The touch of Remus’ hands on his bare skin seemed to have thrown Severus and Remus felt a stinging of guilt in his chest. “I’m sorry,” Remus whispered, as though someone else was in the room. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

He held his hands up in surrender and tried to touch Severus’ arm, but Severus jerked it away. “What are we doing here, Remus? We suddenly go from practically cursing each other senseless to snogging each other in a month? What are we playing at?”

“I don’t know,” Remus answered. “Maybe it was finally finishing the potion. Maybe… I don’t know. Maybe it’s that I finally see you. We don’t have anyone telling us what is acceptable anymore, and we can do whatever makes us happy. You and I have spent a lot of time with each other in the past month, and yes, it was bad. At first. But we settled our differences, and we’re still both fucked up, but we learned how to coexist.” Remus chuckled at the sceptical look on Severus’ face. “Without killing each other. I don’t know, don’t you see that as a good thing?”

“Sure, it’s a good thing, but that doesn’t mean we have to go and snog each other into tomorrow! He started wringing his hands as his eyes looked at the ceiling, at the potion, anywhere just trying to avoid catching Remus’ face. “I need some air.” Severus bent to grab his wand from where it had landed earlier.

“Severus, wait!” Remus called out. A loud  _ crack! _ filled the basement as Severus Apparated out of the room, leaving Remus alone, feeling confused and frustrated.

***

Safe within the confines of his bedroom, Severus paced back and forth, playing the scene in the basement over and over again in his head. What had they been thinking, allowing themselves to get carried away like that? Having Remus in the house was starting to drive Severus mad, apparently. He’d never have kissed him—no, have  _ let _ him kiss him—if they were in their right minds.

An image of Remus’s face, so close to his own, suddenly swam before him and all his inner protesting seemed for naught. They’d spent half their lives at odds, and yet in just a few short weeks they found a peaceful, if somewhat tense, coexistence. ‘The war must have really done it to us,’ Severus thought as he slumped onto his bed, suddenly exhausted. 

Just as he was starting to feel calm again, an aggressive rap on his door pulled Severus out of his pensiveness. It was Remus, of course it was. Severus begrudgingly got up and opened the door.

Despite having knocked so earnestly, Remus looked surprised. “I didn’t expect you to give in that easily.”

“I am not ‘giving in,’ Remus. I just didn’t want to have to repair my door if you were to  _ Diffindo _ it open.” Severus sighed heavily. “What is it?”

Remus stepped inside the door, leaving it open. “I’m sorry for earlier. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. But I don’t understand you, Severus. I know we’ve never seen eye to eye, but times are different now. You’ve grown. You’ve  _ changed, _ and so have I. Neither one of us is beholden to anyone anymore, and we can do… whatever. We can do anything that makes us happy, makes us feel good. We kissed just now, and it didn’t feel bad or wrong.”

“It didn’t. It’s just… strange, I suppose.” Severus ran a hand through his hair as he tried to work out what he wanted to say. “I’ve never been a tender person with anyone except  _ her _ , and I can’t be that for you.”

“No one’s asking that. This doesn’t have to be anything more than what you want, Severus. We won’t do anything that you object to.”

Severus observed Remus. His expression was open, earnest, and he could see a fire in Remus’ hazel eyes. His tongue darted between his lips to moisten them; Severus called back the feeling of that mouth on his, warm and insistent. He felt his cock twitch at the memory. His eyes darkened as he watched Remus walk to him, a bit of the wild wolf within peeking through his gaze.

Feeling reckless, he grabbed the back of Remus’ head and pulled his mouth to his own, capturing his lips in a hard embrace. Almost immediately, their kissing became urgent, all tongues and teeth and nipped lips. Remus snaked his hands inside Severus’ robes. “Is this okay?” he asked, clearly remembering how Severus reacted before.

“Yes,” Severus replied breathily and pushed their lips together once more. Remus removed Severus’ robes and tossed them to the side. The air that hit his skin as he hastily disposed of his shirt ought to have been cool, but Remus’ body was a furnace and he could feel the heat emanating from him. Wanting more of that heat, Severus divested Remus of his robes, revealing his vest and worn denims. He peeled off the white vest, running his hands over Remus’ chest and abdomen. Remus pulled Severus to him and nuzzled into his hair, breathing in his scent and placing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck. His skin was quite warm to the touch, and Severus wanted nothing more than to feel the heat and weight of that body on him, engulfing him, inside him.

Remus took charge, Vanishing their remaining clothing, and the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of this man whom he’d never imagined being in such a situation with was thrilling. Remus pressed their bodies together, skin-on-skin, the delicious heat Severus craved finally making contact with him. Bending down a bit, he kissed Remus’ chest, striated with scars, and took the pink bud of a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it. A moan escaped Remus’ throat, and the sound of it caused Severus’ cock to fully harden. He toyed with the other nipple, pinching it and then lightly caressing it, then pinching again.

Severus was pulled back upright after a few moments, and Remus kissed him again. Stubble peppered Remus’ face, and the feel of it scratching against Severus’ own smooth skin was a welcome friction. He prised his hand from Remus’ hair and lowered it to his cock, palming the erection he found there. His girthy, erect length dribbled a little pre-come, and Severus let it cover his fingertips. He brought his moistened fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. Remus watched him, hunger written all over his face, as Severus continued jerking his penis, thumb swirling over the tip every once in a while and sending a shiver up Remus’ spine.

Remus’ voice took on a low, gravelly tone. “I want you to let me suck your dick now, Severus. Can you do that for me?” His fingers played circles around the head of Severus’ dick as he spoke, sending little jolts of pleasure through his body on every rotation. Severus whispered “Yes,” and Remus kissed his chest and abdomen as he sank to his knees, pushing Severus onto the bed.

The feeling of Remus’ mouth around his prick was divine, so slick and warm, and as his tongue ran up the underside of it, Severus balled his fists into Remus’ hair. “Fuck,” Severus moaned as Remus bobbed his head up and down the shaft, twisting his head and swirling his tongue. One hand found the base of Severus’ cock and pumped as he continued his ministrations with his mouth, drawing mewls of ecstasy from him. Severus felt the head of his dick hit the back of Remus’ throat and the friction on all sides had Severus’ head swimming. Remus’ other hand travelled up his stomach and Severus brought it up to his mouth, kissing his fingertips. Two fingers found their way inside and Severus sucked them, keeping rhythm with Remus’ bobbing. Remus removed the fingers from Severus’ mouth and pushed him down so he was lying on his back. He crawled between his legs and kissed Severus’ mouth fervently, nipping again on his bottom lip. Severus opened his eyes to watch Remus as they kissed, and Remus must have had the same idea: his eyes flew open a millisecond after, dark and lusty.

Remus broke the kiss and moved down to Severus’ cock again, but didn’t put his mouth on it. “Spread your legs,” he instructed, his voice low and stern, and a bit throaty. Remus took Severus’ wand from the bedside table. “May I?” he asked. Severus nodded, and Remus uttered a lubrication charm, a clear substance filling his non-wand hand. He slathered the lube over his fingertips and moved them over Severus’ entrance. He played with the delicate muscles there, causing Severus to squirm with anticipation. Remus massaged the muscles, making them pliant, and pronounced, “I’m going to fuck you now, Severus. If you want to stop, tell me. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

Severus nodded, and Remus pushed his index finger forward, gently breaching Severus’ hole. Severus bucked his hips upward as Remus drove his finger in and out of him, stroking the walls of Severus’ hole with each movement. He gently added another finger, then another, separating them slightly to stretch Severus. Severus moaned as Remus muttered another lubrication charm, slicking his own cock with the substance.

Remus removed his fingers from Severus’ arse, leant forward to place a hot, wet kiss to his mouth, and lifted Severus’ legs, hooking them over his shoulders. “Are you ready?” he asked as he teased Severus’ stretched hole with the tip of his dick.

The urge to push himself onto Remus’ dick was quite strong, but Severus looked at the desire in his eyes and found he wanted Remus to be the one to make the decision. He breathed out a simple  _ “yes”,  _ and Remus’ mouth quirked on one side. Then, in a swift, deliberate movement, Remus’s cock pushed past the ring of loosened muscles, and he was inside.

Severus gasped as Remus stilled. “Are you okay?” he asked, allowing Severus to relax. Severus nodded, and after a brief moment of adjustment, he made to move against Remus. Remus tapped his thigh, tutted, and said “I’ll be the one to work.” Severus felt a shock of desire course through him and let Remus thrust into him slowly as he found his rhythm. He soon filled Severus to the hilt, and Severus relished the feeling of him, Remus’ warm skin slapping against his own as Remus pumped in and out of his arse. He rocked his hips as Remus worked, and the head of Remus’ cock brushed up against Severus’ prostate, making him see stars.

Severus bucked his hips up, but Remus pushed him back down. “I’m going to jerk you off,” he stated, the urgency in his voice sending Severus reeling. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening. This wolf—this  _ man— _ he spent so much time hating was on top of him,  _ inside _ him. Remus was fucking him, and Severus was letting him. It was exquisite, the feeling of Remus filling him over and over, pounding him into submission, and Severus could think of nothing else but the hand that found his cock, the feeling of Remus’ hand pumping at the same speed of his prick, and the tightening of his balls.

For the first time since the war ended, he stopped thinking of Lily and started living in the moment, letting himself be completely consumed in all the sensations he was experiencing.

“Fuck, Remus, I’m going to come,” he moaned as his body threatened orgasm.

Remus nodded. “Come for me, Severus,” he ordered. Severus rocked his hips more urgently against Remus, and his release came, spurting his seed into Remus’ hand. Severus lost himself in his orgasm, drowned by the wave of pleasure that Remus set off inside of him. Remus licked a finger covered in Severus’ come, but Severus jerked it away from him and brought Remus’s hand to his own mouth, licking away the evidence of his orgasm.

Remus watched him as he did this, fiery amber eyes locked on him, and Severus felt Remus come inside him, filling him with his own warm semen. Remus groaned “Ohhhh” as he rode his own orgasm, leaning over Severus and pressing a kiss to his lips. He collapsed on top of him, burying his face in Severus’ black locks. He raised himself up, kissed Severus one more time, then flopped onto his back, still breathless from their activity. “Fuck, that was amazing,” he panted.

Severus looked over at Remus: face reddened, a sheen of sweat covering his brow, his chest moving up and down rapidly as he caught his breath. He was covered in scars, but they seemed to only enhance the beauty underneath. “It was,” Severus replied, “quite the experience.”

“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Remus. I’m well.” Remus nodded, then took Severus’ wand again and cast a silent  _ Tergeo _ charm on both of them. They turned over to face each other, letting hands roam over each others’ bodies, tracing scars, lightly fingering each others’ spent, sensitive cocks until they fell asleep.


	7. Let Me Lay Waste to Thee

**December 10, 1981: Full Moon**

“It’s time,” Severus declared at breakfast the morning of the full moon. “You need to take your potion.”

Remus groaned in protest. He’d taken the potion every day since the previous Friday, and just as Belby’s instructions indicated, it was the worst thing he’d ever tasted. The instructions also said that adding anything to the potion to help with its taste would render it useless, so he steeled himself and downed the goblet proffered to him by Severus. It burned slightly on the way down, tasted like death, and Remus wrinkled his face in disgust. “That’s the final one. I suppose we’ll find out tonight if it works.”

“It’ll work, don’t worry.”

Remus smiled weakly at his—he wasn’t sure what to call Severus now. They’d slept together every night since that first time they’d had sex, and while Remus was sure he wasn’t quite in love, he did feel an attachment to Severus now. He’d become somewhat dominant over Severus during their fucking, a development that surprised both of them, and because of that, he felt responsible for Severus in a way.

“Remus,” said Severus as they sipped their morning tea, “we need to talk about this.” He motioned his hand between the two of them.

Remus breathed a sigh. “I know. I never intended this to be a long-term… arrangement.”

Severus cupped his chin in his hand, fingers brushing over his lips. “Neither did I. And I meant what I said that day. I don’t know if I can be tender. But I’ve never done… this… before. I’ve never had any type of a relationship, and certainly never a sexual partner that takes control like you do.”

Crestfallen, Remus frowned. “I’m sorry if that’s not acceptable, then. You seem to bring it out of me, I suppose, and I want to give you attention. The way we are together, I love taking control and allowing you to be in the moment. I want to provide that for you.”

Severus held up a hand. “You misunderstand me. I want you to do that too.” His lips turned up at the corner in a devilish smirk. “I actually like it when you take control as you do. You allow me to just focus on what you’re doing, what I’m feeling, and everything else melts away.” Severus crossed his arms and thought for a moment. “I don’t know if I want to let that go.”

Remus’ eyes widened a fraction. “Well, I’ll admit, you’re the last person I thought I’d be having this conversation with. But, maybe we should just see where this takes us then. I said that day too, this doesn’t have to be anything more than what you want it to be. The moment it makes you uncomfortable, or you don’t feel the same way about our arrangement, it’s over, no questions asked. But maybe we should give it a shot. It’s up to you.”

Severus pursed his lips slightly, mulling things over. He stood up and walked over to Remus and bent down, running the tip of his tongue up the centre of Remus’s lips, then kissing him fully. Remus opened his mouth to allow their tongues to dance together, but only briefly: the embrace ended as quickly as it began.

“Fuck,” Severus said, wrinkling his nose just as Remus had done minutes earlier. “Either you need to brush your teeth, or that potion is bloody awful.”

“It’s the potion. It’s awful.” Remus’ expression turned slightly wild. “Now get upstairs.”

***

After more discussion of their newfound companionship, a dinner of shepherd’s pie, and a vigorous fucking session in which they experimented some with the  _ Incarcerous _ charm, Remus let himself into the shed to pass the night, hopefully with enough self-possession to get even just a bit of sleep. He performed all the same protection charms as they had the previous month, and he sat waiting in a wingback chair they’d brought down from Severus’ loft, a leftover from when his parents owned the house. 

He watched the sun finally start to disappear and waited. Anxiety, fear, hopefulness, it seemed every emotion crashed down on him at once, and he sat shaking with the anticipation of what was to come.

He imagined again a life where he could have control over his wolf; he’d never been in control of anything his entire life, and finally, after years of suffering and not knowing what damage he had caused during the moons, he had hope that the vicious cycle would end. Again, he imagined himself, curled up in bed peacefully asleep, but this time, he wasn’t alone in his vision. This time, a raven-haired figure sat in bed with him, absentmindedly stroking his fur like a lapdog. It was a strange image of domesticity between him and Severus, and he didn’t know if it would ever come true, but for the first time in what seemed ages, he let himself hope it would.

Then he saw it from the window of the shed—the full moon, bright and glowing, calling the wolf out of him. And then he felt bones cracking, muscles tearing, his body expanding. The pain was excruciating, and he could do nothing but scream, then howl. Finally, when the transition was over, he saw his reflection in the window: the feverish-looking man he’d been minutes before had disappeared, leaving behind the wolf that always waited within him. Long snout, teeth sharp as razors, huge, hulking limbs: he was a horrific sight. ‘It's a good thing I made Severus stay inside tonight,’ Remus thought. ‘I don’t want him seeing me like this. I’m terrifying.’

Then the thought occurred to him: he could _have_ thoughts. ‘It worked. It fucking worked,’ he mused. Testing out his nascent ability to have human thoughts while in this state, he tried to vocalize them, but produced only low grumbling as and yelps.

‘Can’t have everything, I suppose’ he mused. Nonetheless, he let out a jubilant howl, then settled onto the mat on the floor to maybe get some sleep.

***

**December 24, 1981: Waxing Crescent**

The little silver bell tinkled as Severus opened the door to Monsieur Capdevielle’s store. “Ah,” a throaty voice boomed from somewhere inside the store, “Welcome!”

Severus walked into the centre of the store and looked around for the proprietor. “Hello, Monsieur Capdevielle?” he called out. “It’s Severus Snape. I’m here to pick up my order.”

The wizard came out from a back room, practically floating in a billowing robe of royal purple silk. His long, dark hair was elegantly tied in a low ponytail, errant pieces of hair framing his face. Capdevielle walked behind the counter. “I have it right here,” he said and set a box up on the ledge.

Severus strode up to the counter, eyeing the box a bit hungrily as the store owner pushed it toward him. “Thank you,” he said and opened the box. He peered inside and a smile played at his mouth. It was perfect; Remus would love his gift. “Thank you for meeting me on Christmas Eve. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all, my partner and I live just upstairs. I do hope  _ your _ partner enjoys what you’ve gotten him. It’s a fine piece if I do say so myself.”

Reaching inside his cloak, Severus pulled a small pouch from an inner pocket and counted out twenty Galleons. “Here’s your fee. Thank you so much again, he’s going to love it.” Severus looked at the gift again, fighting the urge to touch it, and closed the box. “Do you have an Apparition point nearby?”

“Please feel free to just step out the back, you’ll be safe there,” said Capdevielle, gesturing toward the back of the store with a flourish.

Severus gathered his Christmas gift for Remus and bade goodbye to Capdevielle. He strode through an archway to the storeroom and, tightening his grip on his gift, Apparated back to Spinners End.

Once back home, Severus attempted to climb the stairs quietly, but Remus heard him anyway. “Oi, Severus,” he called from the kitchen, “you’ve been ages! Christmas dinner is served.”

“Damn wolf ears,” Severus muttered as he stopped halfway up the stairs. “Just a minute,” he shouted back, hurrying to their bedroom. He wrapped Remus’ present and stowed it back down in the living room for after dinner.

They ate a modest supper of roast potatoes and turkey breast, and once the table was cleared and the dishes Scourgified, they retired to the living room for a digestif of mulled wine. Remus pointed his wand at the fireplace and uttered  _ “Incendio,” _ lighting the logs within ablaze. He sat in a wingback chair next to the couch on which Severus was seated, crossed his legs and lazily sipped at his wine. Severus watched him, breathing in the aroma of the wine and licking droplets of the dark red liquid off his lips. He longed to lick those lips himself, and as Remus set his mug on the side table and stretched his limbs, Severus’ cock gave a little jump at the sight of his new housemates’ shirt rising and showing a bit of skin. He imagined Remus carefully unbuttoning the shirt, teasing Severus with his slowness.

Barely able to resist his urges anymore, Severus set down his own mug and got up to retrieve Remus’ gift. “This is for you,” he said, his voice a bit breathy. He laid the box on Remus’ lap and sat on the couch next to Remus.

The man looked at the box with confusion, then at Severus. “A gift? I didn’t think we were at gift-giving status yet.”

“Open it,” Severus instructed. Remus gave him a look that teetered on the edge between intrigued and wary. “Please.”

Remus breathed a sigh, then unwrapped the gift and opened the box. His eyes widened as he reached inside and pulled out a black and maroon cat-o’-nine tails.

“W-what?” Remus stammered. “This is for me?”

“Not exactly,” Severus replied. Remus looked at the flogger again and draped the soft, black and green leather braids over one hand. “Monsieur Capdevielle made that by hand. I saw one like it in his store the other day when you had me look at his selection of cuffs, and I had him make this one special. I thought maybe you’d like to use it…”

Remus chuckled, stroking the leather handle which was made up of crisscrossing strips of black and red leather, and testing the flexibility of the braided leather tails, flinging them out and watching them fall back into place.

Severus smirked. “On me,” he murmured.

Remus’ hazel eyes darkened as he looked from the flogger to Severus. “Are you sure?” he queried.

Severus smiled, bashfully looking down and biting his lip. “Fuck, Remus, yes.”

Remus stood up and sat back down next to Severus. “All of our rules apply? I don’t want to do something if you’re not comfortable.”

“I’ve just told you, Remus, I want to do this. I’m sure. We’re ready.”

Remus smiled and draped the tails over Severus’ knee, slowly drawing them back and forth. “Okay. If you consent, I consent.”

Severus leaned over and kissed Remus, finally crushing their lips together as he’d wanted to all night. He smiled against Remus’ embrace. “Happy Christmas,  _ sir _ ,” Severus said as Remus Apparated them both to the bedroom.


End file.
